


Chasing Shadows

by OneforAll



Series: Eclipse series [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:03:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6087598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneforAll/pseuds/OneforAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an interlude set round the episode A Marriage of Inconvenience and stands between Eclipse (after Through A Glass Darkly) and Shadow Fall, which is my own version of the last two episodes of season 2.</p><p>I just wanted to see how they were getting used to being a couple during the events going on around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScoutLover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScoutLover/gifts).



As he read his well-worn copy of Ovid, Athos found one hand drifting down to stroke Aramis's hair. It was a habit he seemed to have acquired since they'd grown closer, when they were relaxing on a night in their lodgings. Tonight Aramis was stretched out on the settle, legs hanging over the end, his head resting in Athos's lap, and the nobleman had foud his fingers wandering, as if of their own volition to comb through sections of the thick, dark locks. He loved the silky feel of it: a small sensation perhaps, in the overall spectrum of the intimate touches they now shared, yet one he relished, indicative as it was of their new closeness. 

"Sorry, am I distracting you?" Athos asked. 

"Yes, a little." Smiling dark eyes flicked up towards Athos. "But I like it!" The marksman's lips curved into a smile. "And this," he added, with a glance towards his book, with its beautifully tooled leather cover, "Is wonderful. All the more so because it was not anticipated It's not my birthday for another month. I wasn't expecting such a beautiful gift! " 

"To be honest, this was intended to be for your birthday," Athos admitted. "I ordered it some time ago but happened to get word today from the bookseller that it had arrived. And when I went to collect it I...could not find a good reason not to give it to you today. 

"An act of impulse—usually my forte!" Aramis responded teasingly. 

"A result of being in the land of the living, perhaps?" Was Athos's dry rejoinder, accompanied by a small quirk of the lips, a crinkling around his eyes. . That private, intimate smile that Aramis was finding to be completely lethal: glimpses of the inner Athos, like the glint of long-buried gold. The marksman took hold of his lover's free hand and lifted it to his lips. 

*I'd like to give you the world, for the way you've made me feel these last few days,*Athos thought privately, raising Aramis's hand in turn to his own lips, kissing his lover's fingers. 

"I'm very glad you like it." He had given careful consideration the present and had thought, quite correctly that Aramis would prefer to read the work of the Spanish poet Garcilaso De La Vega in the language in which it had been written. The import and the rebinding had not been cheap but had been worth it to watch the delight on Aramis's facewhen he'd unwrapped it earlier tonight. In truth, after he'd collected it from the antiquarian bookshop this morning, the impulse to give it to his lover had been overwhelming.   

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that we first made love a week ago today?" Aramis looked up at his partner knowingly. 

"Coincidence?" Athos was trying to maintain a suitably nonchalant expression but the gleam in his eyes gave him away. 

Aramis shook his head, chuckling softly. "Oh, I don't think so. Imagine what it would do to your image if it were known that the fearsome Athos of the King's musketeers was prone to making impulsive romantic gestures?" 

"Fearsome?" Athos said with a quirk of his eyebrow. 

"Oh yes! And awesome. In every way..." Aramis had made that lightly teasing look into an artform and he used it now, like a virtuoso, sweeping over Athos's face and body. Even when it was not employed to full capacity it had the power to make the nobleman tingle all over. 

Aramis, with his head resting on Athos's lap, felt the small jolt of arousal pass through the other's cock. The acknowledgement was traded between them in smiling looks. 

Aramis closed the book with his free hand and put it down safely on the table nearby. "I shall look forward to finishing this when we get back from our mission." They were due to depart tomorrow for the border to escort Princess Louise of Mantua, the King's cousin, coming to Paris as a prelude to making a marriage that would cement an alliance between France and Sweden. He squeezed Athos's hand which was already holding his. "But the best thing you can or ever will give me, is that kiss, a week ago, that told me how you felt." 

"And the best gift I could ever have is your response." 

Now that all his guards had come down Aramis had rapidly grown aware of how susceptible he was when Athos said such things to him. It was the directness, the rich, aristocratic timbre of that voice. It travelled through the space between them like an invisible caress setting up a fine quivering In his loins and gut. So he really had no choice but to rise from his recumbent position and move to sit on Athos's lap, reaching his arms around the other's neck. 

Athos laid aside his book and swiftly pulled Aramis into an embrace, hauling his lover more tightly against him. They kissed, lips and tongues meeting with a tender, playful eagerness. 

"It occurs to me," Athos murmured, one hand drifting to the back of Aramis's neck, stroking it, his words interspersed with nibbling on the other's lower lip, "That since we won't have much privacy over the next few days we could make better use of our time--" 

"Not reading about love--" Aramis answered, then plunged his tongue into his lover's mouth and let it explore, revelling in the moist warmth, in the feel of the other's tongue, welcoming, dallying, caressing.... 

"But making it," Athos declared, sounding slightly huskier. Aramis loved the way his tone grew that little deeper when it thickened with desire. The vibrations in his groin increased, swelling like a wave of sweet subliminal music. 

"You keep finishing my sentences," Aramis said when they broke from the kiss. 

"And you..." The hazel eyes glittered teasingly as Athos hauled Aramis more tightly against him, pushing his pelvis slightly upwards, so that his lover, straddled across him, could feel his stirring erection, "Keep, literally, taking the words right out of my mouth..." 

Aramis laughed and leaned in for another kiss. Easing back, he then gave Athos an accusingly flirtatious look. "There's an expression, I believe, about kettle and pots, and the calling thereof!" 

"I believe there is!" Athos replied laconically, then gave the little smile that sent Aramis's heart into freefall. "To bed?" 

"To bed!" Aramis agreed and they climbed to their feet together, parting briefly to make their usual nightly checks to make sure the place was secure then headed swiftly up the stairs. 

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	2. Chapter 2

By the time Aramis had collected a fresh shirt and the other things he'd need for the morning from the room next door, Athos was undressed and occupied in covering the top of the bed with a spare sheet. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching for the jar of salve that had been prescribed to Aramis for the bruising he'd sustained during the Marmion episode. 

The marskman deposited his things on a nearby chair and came to sit beside Athos, with a rather sardonic smile. 

"Downstairs—poetry. Upstairs, salve! How very un-romantic!" 

"But necessary," Athos reminded him, smiling inwardly as he recalled Treville's recent statement about Aramis being a bad patient. He reached over with his free hand and pushed back a lock of dark hair tumbling over the other's forehead, leaning in for a brief kiss. "It has helped, hasn't it? Now turn around for me." 

"Would rather kiss you!" Aramis murmured cheekily, but did as he was bade. 

"One thing at a time," Athos said with amused patience, dipping his fingers into the salve and began rubbing it slowly into Aramis's back. Aramis savoured the gentleness and care with which the other's fingers stroked over his skin in smoothing circular motions; enjoying a moment of irony and expectation, Warrior's hands—lethal in wielding a sword or musket, or clenched in an iron fist—yet soon they would move over his body in gentle arousal. 

Although he would tense or flinch occasionally when Athos hit a spot that was still sore and tender, the care that Athos was taking with him as he worked in the lotion made Aramis feel relaxed and cherished; helped to feed the embers of desire that had begun to smoulder downstairs. 

"You do that very nicely," he whispered appreciatively, arching his back a little as Athos's fingers kneaded tired muscles in his neck and shoulders. 

"Glad to be of service," the nobleman replied smilingly, dropping a kiss onto Aramis's shoulder. The bruising, he thought, was certainly much less livid than it had been a week ago. Still, he couldn't help but voice his concern as he replaced the lid on the jar of ointment, setting in down and moving so he was face to face with Aramis again. "You are certainly much improved. But you have only returned to full duty. Are you sure you'll be all right tomorrow? It'll be a long day's riding." 

"I'll be fine," Aramis assured him. "And I think I'll feel better for getting back to normal Though the timing of this mission could be better. There's something I hoping to take care of . " 

"The business with Marguerite?" Athos knew it had been on Aramis's mind this last week. He'd been on sick leave for a couple of days then on light duties around the garrison, so there had been no legitimate reason for him being at the Louvre 

"Yes. I had thought that I'd be on roster at the palace this week and would get the chance to see her. Then this new assignment came up. I have to do this in person, of course." Aramis sighed. " I'll speak to her at the first suitable opportunity when we return." 

Athos nodded. He would rest easier in knowing that Aramis would no longer run the risk of being seen too often around the Queen's household and the Dauphin's nursery. Also, on the personal front, he would be glad when this was settled. Since he and Aramis had become lovers it was much harder to suppress twinges of jealousy. Aramis took off the Queen's crucifix when they were at home together and Athos was grateful for the gesture but he would be relieved when the matter with Marguerite was properly concluded. 

Some of that vulnerability must have shown in his eyes, for Aramis grasped hold of his hand. "I will do it. I promise." He went on to give his lover a smile of gentle understanding. "I don't want to share you, either." He leant forward and placed a soft kiss on the other's lips. "Now, as to the mission, please do not worry unduly. True, I am still a little sore but improving all the time. I promise you, I wouldn't be going if I didn't think I was fit enough. I know this might be a tricky one." 

"You may well be right." Athos sighed as he rubbed his hands on a small towel, then placed it and the jar on a bedside table. "Not everyone will be as keen as the King and Rochefort for this marriage to take place," he added as he moved up to stretch out on his back. Aramis joined him, rolling onto his side and into the other's embrace, so that he was half straddling him. 

"You wonder what the Cardinal would have made of it all." 

"He is probably, as the saying goes, "spinning in his grave." Who would have thought that six months ago that someone like Rochefort would have all but assumed his place?" 

"Who indeed?" Aramis shook his head in disbelief. "Constance is always full of tales from court of how the King leans on him, more and more. But then," he flashed Athos a warm, flirtatious smile. "Who would have thought even a month ago that you and I would be together like this?" 

Athos shifted slightly, pulling Aramis fully on top of him, hand on the back of the other's neck, drawing him in for a kiss. Each could feel the other's erection firming as their bodies pressed together. Their lips opened eagerly to each, tongues delving within, mapping the interior of each other's mouths. Heat surged between them as Athos pressed his pelvis upwards, grinding himself against Aramis, as the other in turn rotated his hips, the material of their braies straining as the friction built. 

"A month ago," Athos confessed, sounding a little breathless, "I was just glad to know you were close by. I never—could not even allow myself to think—that you might be in here, with me, like this!" 

"Well, you know, it is the slightly better of the two rooms," Aramis's eyes glowed, his smile wide and shamelessly teasing as one hand snaked down to unfasten Athos's braies. "Lighter and more airy. And I think this mattress on this bed is a little newer." 

"And this is the reason—oh God!" Athos's amused retort was interrupted by a gasp as Aramis's fingers curled around his phallus. He managed to continue, after a moment, "That you're in it, with me?" 

"This mattress is definitely better upholstered!" Aramis quipped then his gaze softened and he leaned over press his mouth on Athos's again. "I am here..." He murmured, between increasingly warm kisses, "Because I desire you...and need you...and love you..." 

Aramis's caresses were making Athos harder, as were his kisses, but most arousing were those words, spoken with such fond veracity. 

"That's a very good reason," he managed to gasp out at last, as Aramis pulled down his braies. Leaning in closer, the marksman's tongue traced the outline of his lover's ear, then nibbled at his earlobe. The trail of kisses continued, down Athos's neck: soft brushing of lips, feather light, making fine shivers run through him. Athos had denied himself this sort of pleasure for so long, that when Aramis touched him like this, it felt as though his body was something reborn, like a phoenix arisen from the flames. As if his skin itself was freshly grown, raw and sensitised to every small caress of those knowing fingers, that skillful mouth. 

Aramis moved onwards, his tongue playing flick and tease with Athos's left nipple, grazing the nub. Then his mouth lowered onto it. As his nipple hardened rapidly, Athos's hand was tangling in Aramis's hair, wanting more of that sweet pressure. The nobleman trembled, not just because of the waves of pleasure coursing through him. The walls of his inner defences were crumbling, the mortar of resolve that had held together their bricks felt as though it was softening, disintegrating, every time they had made love over the past week. He knew the process was irreversible, and although unaccustomed to feeling so open or exposed, there was something about the way that Aramis touched him, looked at him, that made him feel strangely unconcerned. 

Aramis made his way across to the right nipple, swirling his tongue around it, one way and then the other. He loved the shiver he felt running through Athos's body, just as he savoured every sign of appreciation and reaction the other had shown him since they became lovers. It both pleased and aroused him in turn to see Athos opening up to him sensually in this way; made him feel both tender and empowered at the same time. 

Wanting to touch and give pleasure to Aramis, Athos's hand skimmed lightly over the other's back, following the curve of his spine. When he reached Aramis's buttocks he reached for the fastening of his lover's braies, pushing them down so he could squeeze a firm, sweetly curving cheek, then, unable to resist, he ran a finger down the crack until he reached the anal ring. He traced the outline of the rim, as Aramis had urged him to do the other night, and was rewarded by an upward thrust of Aramis's pelvis. Aramis let out a guttural cry, his mouth losing its place on Athos's nipple; his cock leaping and spine arching as Athos repeated his actions, venturing just a little further inside. 

Their slightly glazed gazes met and in mutual understanding, they eased apart for a moment, pulling off their smallclothes and kicked them aside, out of the way. Then they came back together, mounting mutual need drawing them into a fierce kiss and embrace, erections butting as they moved together. 

Wanting to let his hands and lips explore more of the lithe body surging against his, Athos nipped at Aramis's lower lip with his teeth, then placed a kiss on the cleft of his chin, moving to his throat, which tensed under his touch as Aramis threw back his head, keen for more of the caressing of thos lips. 

*You said you were out of practice!* Aramis thought hazily as a knowing tongue lapped at the hollow of his throat, fiery sensations of pleasure travelling down to his increasingly rampant cock. *But, mon Dieu, you are certainly catching up!* There were moments when he could barely believe that this was happening, then the reality of it would hit him, the fierce joy almost making him come. He tried to steady his breathing a little, not wanting to peak too soon. But it was very difficult when Athos's tongue was drawing a circle round his navel and dipping within. His whole body was burning up with need, his channel clenching as he remembered the feel of Athos's fingers entering him. He ached to give himself to Athos completely but knew the other wouldn't feel ready until his own bruising had properly subsided. He was also aware from their brief discussions on the subject that Athos's boyhood experiences had been limited and that he'd never taken or been taken by another man. It left Aramis feeling slightly frustrated but loving Athos all the more for his concern. 

Still there were other paths to intimacy they could explore. But it had better be soon. He could feel his control rapidly starting to unravel. He pulled back slightly, meeting Athos's eyes. 

"Lie back for me, sweetheart," he heard himself murmuring, voice husky with need. 

The small endearment had slipped out and he watched Athos flush slightly, but comply, rolling onto his back. The hazel eyes, glazed with lust, regarded him curiously. Aramis took a moment to savour the view of the strong, wiry body lying there, knees drawn back, legs parted, a little sheen of sweat matting the dark chest hair. 

So fucking beautiful, Aramis thought, as he knelt over him, and so gorgeously hard for me. He bent his head and licked the tip of Athos's pulsing cock. Flicking over the head, placing a kiss there, then began to work down the underside of the shaft, laving it with his tongue. Athos let out a moan, enflaming Aramis all the more as he lowered his head further and flicked his tongue over his lover's testes 

Athos's body convulsed and his phallus leapt upwards. Aramis repeated the action, licking and stroking lightly with the tip of his tongue. Athos emitted a noise that was almost like a whimper. 

"Oh, you like that, don't you, my love? My tongue on you..." Aramis's voice was a thick purr of seduction. "Would you like it in you?" 

Athos's moan of assent came from somewhere deep in his throat 

Aramis pushed his partner's legs slightly further apart and placing a hand under his arse to tilt his pelvis lightly further upward, he let his tongue continue its journey, outlining the other's anal ring, then venturing inside. He felt the anal muscle clench and unclench under his probing. 

Athos cried out as his body arched, lusty spasms of pleasure rippling through him. 

"Aramis! Oh, mon Dieu!" The intimacy, the sweet sensations produced by Aramis's caresses made the nobleman feel like he was being taken apart, atom by atom. "Going to come--" he gasped, almost hyperventilating. Every nerve ending felt on fire as he continued, his rich tones slurred with longing, "Please—come with me....! 

Aramis was also feeling desire rising to claim him, his own erection rigid and throbbing from the pleasure he knew he was giving his lover. But he was possessed by the same need as Athos, to have their bodies pressed against each other, sharing their climax. He quickly manouevred himself back into Athos's arms, which closed around him eagerly. They rolled onto their sides, clutching one another tightly, cocks butting and rubbing. As their bodies surged together, the friction grew, ever faster and more fierce; powered by the rhythm of quickening heartbeats, blood thundered threw their veins. 

Inspired and subsumed by the sight and feel of Athos's hard, muscular body locked in passionate synchronicity with his, words came spilling out Aramis. 

"Athos....curazon de mi curazon...Dios! I want you so much..." 

Athos's limited knowledge of Spanish recognised the phrase, 'heart of my heart' and it excited him even further. Occasionally words from the Latin side of Aramis's heritage would come out during their love-making , and because they came from deep within him, Athos always found it arousing. He pushed his pelvis harder against his lover's, the increased friction driving Aramis wild in turn. 

He felt the unstoppable tremors gathering in his balls and reached to draw Aramis into a deep kiss. 

The feel of Athos's tongue pressing voraciously against his was enough to trigger Aramis's own overwhelming climax. The imagery in his mind was of Athos's cock penetrating him with the same passionate intensity with which the other was now claiming his mouth. He heard himself let out some sort of moan or whimper that was swallowed by the kiss. 

They came within moments of one other, splashing their cream over each other's cocks and bellies, the slickness of it lubricating the last of the rhythmic thrusts as their bodies slid together, riding the end of the tide. Finally, they quivered to a halt; replete, limbs trembling. They eased apart for a moment and shared smiling, slightly awed looks: still getting used to the power of the reaction they could produce in each other. Then Aramis inclined his head; a sweeter, gentler meeting of lips and tongues. 

The languidity of aftermath cast its mantle over them; the coming down from the high was gentle and unhurried, like a rose petal floating slowly to the ground on a summer breeze. As Aramis moved to pilow his head in the space between his lover's neck and shoulder, Athos felt satiation sweeping through his being. In moments like this he felt like a man who had been wandering in a desert, parched, almost dying of thirst, who'd reached an oasis. It was full of sweet, sparkling water and the more he drank of it, the more replenished and alive he felt. 

Aramis knew they'd have to move at some point to clean themselves up but was in no hurry to do so. He laid a hand on Athos's chest. He could feel the other's heartbeat, gradually slowing, like his own. He had found he'd come to treasure these moments of quiet togetherness almost as much as the passion. Words floated into his mind as he tried to capture the essence of this feeling, not quite like anything he'd experienced before. From the book of Isaiah: "And a man shall be as a hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest. As rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. " A sense of refuge, and of belonging. 

"I have never felt less enthusiasm for going on a mission out of Paris," he murmured as he nestled more closely against Athos. "How I shall miss this, over the next week when we are out on the road!" 

"What? The superior upholstery of my mattress?" Athos said in a drily teasing tone as his fingers once again found themselves straying into Aramis's hair. 

Aramis chuckled. "Very droll, my witty friend!" He pushed himself up so he could look into his lover's face. "No—this. Us," he added, voice softening. 

"I also," Athos's gaze sought that of Aramis, the glow in his eyes making the other feel cherished, grounded. "But we have it to look forward to, do we not, when we return?" 

"Oh God, yes!" Aramis leaned over and claimed his lover's mouth again. 

A kiss. A seal. A promise. 

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End file.
